Weakness

Posts : 12 Join date : 2023-12-04

The early morning sun cut through the horizon with the precision of a samurai. The sky was a deep indigo, sprinkled with the faint leftovers of the stars, as the first light of dawn began to stretch its fingers across the horizon. The air was crisp and salty, carrying the faint whispers of waves lapping against the wooden pillars of the old proud pier. Each gentle crash echoed through the pre-dawn silence.

As the horizon began to lighten, a soft gradient of colors dressed the sky. Touches of lavender and rose melded seamlessly into the dark blue, heralding the arrival of the new day. The pier, a steadfast sentinel of countless dawns, stretched out into the water, its silhouette stark against the growing light. Weathered by years of storms and sun, the wood creaked softly as a gentle breeze stirred the air, a reminder of its enduring presence. Barnacles hugged the pier’s legs and seaweed danced in the midst of the current while the sun winked off of the shore. Seagulls took flight from their perches up top and squawked while flapping their wings creating disorganized yelps layered on top of each other. Long Island at this time was a ghost town, spare for a few joggers attempting to beat the heat and sightseers trying to get a glimpse of the pale colors.

Sawyer walked and bounced on the uneven planks of the pier with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He too was taken aback by the magnificent sunrise, but something else was on his mind.

“I decided to stay in New York City for a little longer. I am no city dweller but I want this place to stick with me. As a pivotal crossroad, as a lesson, as a lesson learned, and ultimately where triumph took place. Ceridwen should not hang her hat. I understand there are no moral victories. I also understand she will be crestfallen in the coming days if not weeks. The sting of such a crushing defeat is a burden few can overcome. I have no reason to believe she won’t. Conquest Colosseum was not just a run-of-the-mill wrestling show. It was a work of art to behold. To be remembered and passed down through future generations. Even though her aspirations were cut short, I believe we taught and learned from each other. I couldn’t ask for more. Like this pier I stand on, it serves as a reminder to myself that even through years of hardships, and years of trying conditions, I remain unwavering. New York City will be a chapter where I faced my toughest challenge to date. Ceridwen has earned that honor.

I hope you are listening too, Christopher Sabertooth. I hope you watched Ceridwen and I bring the house down. I hope you studied with vetted interest as any champion let alone a world champion should do. Preparing yourself doggedly, and setting yourself up for success is paramount. You never know who your next challenger will be or what they have up their sleeves. I wouldn’t change a thing either, because it keeps you on your toes and it keeps your mind in motion and motivated. There’s valor in work ethic and there’s valor in consistency. I give everything to make every day my best day so I can always look forward to tomorrow. Do you do the same, Christopher? Or would you rather put your feet up and coast on the backs of others? I have heard the whispers, the callouts, the gossip, and the hearsay. It’d be easy, wouldn’t it? To bully others into joining your pact. To lure in other champions to form a dynasty of dominance by hook or by crook. It’s a flawed ploy. You believe there’s strength in numbers because you need them to defeat the likes of Matt Miles, you need them to try and defeat me. You want me to embrace Salvation or succumb to your iron fist. I have already walked through Mercadier de Leon and Jupiter King before, as so many others have. To put the fear of Christopher Sabertooth in the hearts of the PCW roster is just your castle in the sky.

And I’m the one to knock it down with valor, purity, precision, and determination, something you could never hope to achieve in PCW despite your storied career, despite the decisions you’ve made.

I am not James Christ.

I am not Matt Miles.

I am not Nayati.

They are echoes of your past.

You’re the proverbial head of the snake, yet something truly puzzles me. You are capable of so much more yet you have settled for so much less. Pairing yourself with a couple of two-bit lackeys to take over PCW isn’t a frightening prospect. It isn’t a dark cloud hovering over this company as you believe. It speaks to a weakness that I will exploit. A weakness that Matt Miles started to uncover and that I will finish.

The weakness is you, Christopher.

Gone are the days of a man renowned and praised for his accomplishments through pure excellence and mastery of his craft by his own doing no less. He has been replaced with a soulless caricature of himself. An empty puppet with too much power in his hands - who chooses to stoop down with a couple of lowly dregs to wipe PCW clean. I’m no hero, I do not sport a cape but I won’t let you cut the throat of PCW. You will not take The Valor Championship, but I will leave you begging for it. I will not let you bleed PCW dry for selfish reasons. I do not have to collect a couple of aimless ghosts at either hip to do my dirty work. I operate on a standard I have set with nothing extra hiding in the dark. I do not deny your talent, I do not deny your fabled past. I deny your reasoning. I deny your fear-mongering and on Triumph.

I deny your salvation."